


Bubble Tea and Feelings

by yukiawison



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, First Dates, Fluff, Gen, Insecure Keith (Voltron), Insecure Lance (Voltron), M/M, Mystic Messenger references, Nonbinary Pidge | Katie Holt, The Holt family owns a bubble tea place, insecure everyone basically lol, this AU is odd and specific
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-02
Updated: 2017-11-02
Packaged: 2019-01-28 06:54:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,716
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12600796
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yukiawison/pseuds/yukiawison
Summary: Keith knows it's an objectively bad idea to buy bubble tea everyday when he's broke. Lance tries to flirt. Pidge gets a kick out of all of this.(Days 1 and 2 of fic-vember)





	1. Bubble Tea

**Author's Note:**

> Hello pals. I'm challenging myself to post fic everyday this month and this chapter is day 1. Hope you enjoy!

"I thought you didn't like boys?" Lance asked, opening the cash register and counting the stack of ones. "Isn't the point of that game to date boys?"

Pidge glared at him from across the room. They were balancing on a stool with their bare knees tucked to their chest, phone in one hand (plugged in and tethering them to the wall), and plastic cup of plain boba in the other. They were eating them with a spoon, an odd practice Lance could never wrap his head around. "First of all, there's a girl you can romance. Second of all I don't like anyone. And third, Mystic Messenger is a game of mystery, intrigue, and dueling hackers so shut your mouth," they shot back at him, eating another spoonful of boba and swiping their hair out of their eyes. It was starting to get long in the front. 

"You lost me at intrigue," Lance checked his watch. They had 15 minutes until opening. "Can you check on the cup situation?" He asked. 

Pidge climbed off the stool, standing to their full but meager height and setting aside their phone. A week before school ended they'd chopped their hair off at their chin. Instead of gentle waves it spiked out away from their neck and in summer was perpetually mussed and lightened by the sunshine. Today Pidge was wearing their wrinkled Holt Teahouse shirt (two sizes too big with the sleeves rolled up, probably one of their brother's) tucked into high waisted jean shorts they'd doodled on with sharpie. Their legs were bruised and bandaid covered, and they'd stopped shaving in December (to which their nasty middle school classmates had turned their noses up at and Pidge had commented "disposable razors are a tool of the patriarchy. We should really be worrying about the aliens the government is hiding from us.") Their face was sunburnt, eyebrows unruly, and their glasses had fake lenses (for the aesthetic). This was a classic Pidge look. Lance couldn't help but smile at them as they surveyed their cup inventory and then turned to Lance's phone to make a Spotify selection. 

"You should download it Lance. Dating fake boys is better than dating no boys."

"You're so funny."

"Thank you."

He'd worked at the Holt Teahouse for the past two summers. The bubble tea craze hadn't subsided. They were a hit: like an ice cream shop but for pre and post teens who wanted cute Instagram photos. He'd gotten the job through Matt, but seemed to spend the majority of his shifts with his sibling, especially this summer since he was on a European backpacking trip with his boyfriend. He didn't mind though. Pidge Holt was his best friend. 

"Do you think he's going to come back today?" They asked, wiping down the counter with a cloth. The comment nearly made him lose count of the quarters. 

"What do I care, mullet guy can do as he pleases," he said defensively, not bothering to look up at them. 

"That was an unnecessarily emotional reaction. Is this because he didn't get that you were flirting with him? Because I think that's more about him than it is about you."

Lance whipped his head around to look at them. "So I wasn't off my game. I felt off my game. It was clear to you that I was flirting with him? I didn't look more awkward than usual or anything?"

Pidge grinned. "Oh, I see, you like him."

"What? No!" Mullet guy had been coming to the teahouse everyday at 4 sharp for the last week and a half. The first time Lance had turned on his trademark charm and the poor guy had turned bright red and stuttered out his order. Only the blushing and stuttering was so cute Lance lost his own composure and ran into Pidge when they slipped past him with a not yet sealed cup of milk tea that ended up all over the both of them. 

It wasn't his fault. Mullet guy was almost aggravatingly cute (apart from the mullet.) He'd smiled, half embarrassed, half amused when the collision happened and his smile was prettier than his face. He always wore red: the first time it was a red tank top and redder face. Later there were band t-shirts, and running shorts and converse in the shade. Every time he'd order something different and exchange a few words with Pidge or Lance. He always seemed vaguely embarrassed, flushed, and awkward to the point where Lance thought this was the only social interaction he got on a day to day basis. Today though, when he ordered he seemed distracted, blatantly ignoring Lance's attempted banter. He looked tired too: hair tied up in a little bun at the top of his head, and greasy like he'd forgotten to wash it. 

"I'm just worried, he didn't look so good."

"Well there's clearly something wrong with him if he wants to drink this crap everyday." Pidge only liked the boba, ironically they weren't a tea person. 

Lance hoped mullet guy was okay. He looked about his age. Maybe a student? He usually had a backpack so Lance figured he was taking summer classes. He never really pried in their brief conversations. He just told bad jokes to make him smile. Heck, he didn't even know the guy's name. 

"Are you done over there? It's nearly time to open."

"Shit I lost count, give me a minute." 

Pidge laughed their happy, rolling laugh and Lance flushed. "I don't like mullet guy."

"Whatever you say Lance."

***

Keith didn't realize he'd forgotten his umbrella until he was outside in the rain. Warm drops hit his nose and rolled down to chin. It was the kind of rain that came in a wave of relief. The humidity of the air let up for a moment, the liquid coming down splatters instead of lingering in the air. 

He sucked in a breath. He could skip today. That was always an option, not an option he ever took but it was an option. He was tired. So tired and done with his ridiculous schedule: classes from 7 to 3:30, homework, some semblance of food, and then work at the library from 5 to 10. It had been like this every week. And would be until the end of the summer. Such was the life of a scholarship student. This would all be worth it if he could graduate sooner. The sooner he had a job and a decent place to live and something more than soggy backpack straps to cling to the better.  _ It will be worth it,  _ he repeated to himself. His red converse squidged onward, white laces turning to murky brown. 

So Keith was kind of an idiot. Struggling college students shouldn't be buying $3 bubble tea everyday. Furthermore they shouldn't be wasting precious time and physical energy walking two miles in the rain to get to a stupid teahouse. In fact Keith had passed at least two places where a similar beverage could be purchased. But it wasn't about the tea. It wasn't about the tea because Keith Kogane was almost certainly an idiot. 

He'd been steered to the teahouse in the first place because of Shiro. His boyfriend's family evidently owned the place, although Matt had been on vacation the whole time Keith had been coming there. 

"Hi, I'm Lance how can I help you?" The first time Lance's smile was so wide and inviting that Keith's internal monologue shifted from  _ It will be worth it  _ to _ I am so gay.  _

"I, um..." The other man had leaned forward out of the ordering window and winked at him. Keith stupidly read the first item off the menu, very conscious of how red his face was getting. 

"Um, sure thing," Lance replied, looking kind of embarrassed himself.  _ What did he have to be embarrassed about? _

Keith had laughed hysterically when Lance ran into his co-worker and spilled tea everywhere. He felt bad afterward but it was too funny how his eyes went all wide and how he nervously scrambled for the roll of paper towels. 

And it had been a rough day. Most days this summer had been rough and it felt good to laugh. 

And so he was here in the rain, umbrellaless, with eye bags that had eye bags, walking to the Holt Teahouse on a Wednesday afternoon. 

The little stand (a renovated ATM strategically located alongside a bus stop) was always steeped in sunshine. Keith knew the menu backwards and forwards now so he barely looked up as he ordered a passion fruit milk tea.  

"Are you alright?" Now he looked up, and Lance looked concerned, very concerned. Keith probably looked as bad as he felt, but he didn't realize he looked bad enough to garner a verbal response. 

"I um..." Lance was leaning in again but in a worried way and not a flirty one. "forgot my umbrella."

"Do you want to take mine?" He asked without skipping a beat. Keith looked around as if there were anyone else he could be talking to. No one else was in line. 

"No, it's okay I uh..."

"Are you sure because you don't look so good and I don't want you to get sick or anything because your probably a student or something and you can't afford to miss class and I know I don't really know you or anything but..."

"Lance!" Lance whipped around to look at his co-worker who already had his tea made and was holding it and the umbrella out angrily. "Stop babbling and go out there."

Keith grinned. He couldn't help it. He couldn't feel like shit when this boy was tripping all over himself because of him. Keith was never the one people got embarrassed over. He was the one who got embarrassed. 

"I don't want to just take your umbrella."

"Then he'll walk you home," Lance's companion cut in. "His shift's nearly over anyway."

"Pidge!" Lance looked over at them, horrified. 

"Okay," Keith mumbled. 

"Okay?" Lance gaped at him. 

"See Lance, he wants you to walk him. Get out of here."

"I'm Keith," Keith said, once the umbrella was over the both of them. "I don't think I ever told you my name."

"Keith," Lance repeated dumbly, head tilting to one side. "It's uh, nice to meet you."

"My place isn't far. I'm sorry to be of such trouble though." 

"It's not trouble." It may have been wishful thinking but Keith could swear Lance leaned in toward him a little bit. They bumped shoulders. "I insisted you take the umbrella and Pidge insisted I take you."

"Pidge seems very persuasive."

"They can be scary when they want to be."

"Do you go to the university?" He asked. Keith's hair was dripping around his face and he reached up a gloved hand to push his bangs out of his eyes. 

"Yeah, I'm taking summer classes," he didn't say more. It was better not to admit that he was broke and friendless. "Do you?" Keith had never seen him on campus but it was a big school. 

"Oh, no I'm just here for the summer. I'm saving up for classes at my school in the fall. It's about an hour from here. I stay with the Holt family every summer."

"Oh so you know Matt?"

Lance stopped in his tracks. "You know Pidge's brother?"

"Matt is Pidge's brother?" Keith had never actually met Matt. Shiro had promised he'd introduce him sometime but their schedules never seemed to mesh. "I don't know him really I know his boyfriend Shiro. Actually Shiro's like my brother."

"I'm losing my mind right now," Lance said, laughing. "You're Shiro's Keith? You're the gay hermit conspiracy theorist with the knife collection? You seemed so normal I didn't put it together."

Keith flushed red. "Shiro exaggerates." 

"That's too bad. Shiro's Keith sounded pretty cool."

"Shiro's not taking summer classes is he?" Lance asked. There was another question in it but Lance was too polite to ask outright. 

"No, he isn't. I um...I'm only here because I'm a scholarship student. The quicker I get out of college the better."

Lance frowned. "That's an unconventional attitude."

Keith felt his face going red. He didn't like talking about where he came from. No family, no friends, no future wasn't the most convincing tagline albeit an accurate one. 

"But I get it," Lance said quickly, evidently noticing his discomfort. "It's a lot of pressure. What are you studying?"

"I'm pre-med," he replied. He didn't add that he wasn't sure he'd be a halfway decent doctor. His professors always said he was too reckless and impulsive. 

"Wow, you must be really smart then," Lance said, eyes lighting up.

"What do you study?"

"Art," he grinned. "Is that a deal breaker?"

"Of course not," he replied, wondering in a flustered fashion what he'd meant by deal breaker. It was raining harder now and Lance pressed closer to him to shield himself from the downpour. He directed him which way to turn when they got close. "What kind of art do you make?"

"I draw," he grinned. "And I paint and I make movies that nobody watches. I like school. I'm scared to even leave."

Keith nodded absently. "I think I get that too."

"Is this your place?" They'd come to a stop in front of Keith's dingy apartment building. He looked down at his soaked shoes and nodded.

"It's not much."

"Dude I don't give a shit if you're a scholarship student and live in a crappy apartment. I'm here working my ass off to afford next semester while my friends are off on vacation. I get it. It sucks. You seem like a nice guy. You seem like a nice guy who works himself to death but a nice guy nevertheless. Don't be ashamed of the hard work it took to get where you are okay?"

"Okay," Keith said, because he was too surprised to say anything else. 

Lance nodded and gave him a slight smile. "Sorry, I didn't mean to go off I just...look I've been there too and I think it's better to own it than apologize for it."

Keith's heart was going a mile a minute. He felt, for a second, like he might cry. "Okay," he repeated. They were in front of his door so he said so. 

"Well, good luck. I'll see you tomorrow probably," Lance smiled at him and turned, umbrella bobbing as he walked. 

***

"I'm SUCH a dumbass," Lance groaned, jabbing his straw in his mouth and accidentally sticking himself in the roof of his mouth.

"I knew that one already," Pidge said. They were outside wiping down the windows of the teahouse with Windex while Lance moped. "What exactly are you referring to?"

"Keith," Lance muttered. "When I walked him home yesterday I kind of lectured him."

"Lectured him? About what?" Pidge put down their bottle of Windex. 

Lance flushed. "He was doing that thing I always used to do. He's a scholarship student and he got all embarrassed about his shitty apartment and the fact that he has to take summer classes to save money."

"So you're telling me that the first time you actually talk to the guy you like you tell him off for internalized classism?"

Lance groaned. "Why am I so stupid? He'll probably never come back now. Did I tell you that he's Shiro's Keith? I made a huge fool of myself in front of Shiro's Keith."

Pidge burst out laughing. "He's my nerd brother's boyfriend's nerd friend? Holy shit Lance you know how to pick them."

"He hates me."

"I think you're jumping to conclusions."

Lance shook his head. "I can't talk about this anymore. How is your class schedule coming?"

Pidge had been accepted into the Garrison, an advanced science and technology high school both Matt and Shiro had attended. They'd been sent the course catalogue a week ago. 

"The freshman requirements are pretty straight forward. I'm taking geometry and biology and the advanced computer science I tested into," They avoided eye contact. 

"Are you okay?" Lance asked. 

"I'm fine," they shot back too quickly. Pidge hadn't talked much about high school since they got in. Their family, of course, was ridiculously proud. 

Pidge finished up the windows and came back in the kiosk. "Hey Lance, can I have a hug?" Pidge looked up at him, a little lost. 

"Always, bud," he replied, opening his arms for them. 

"You're a good friend Lance."

"Thanks nerd."

"Hey, um are you guys open?"

Lance looked to the source of the voice. Today Keith had a red choker and, if Lance wasn't mistaken, eyeliner. 

"You came back!"

Keith looked confused. "Why wouldn't I come back?"

"Because I told you off for internalized classism," he said, borrowing a phrase from Pidge. 

Pidge laughed ridiculously and then had to go in the bathroom because they couldn't stop.

Keith was bright red. "Well you were right. And I uh...I'm spending a ton of money on tea I don't need because I don't have the guts to ask you out."

"You," Lance gaped at him. "Want to go out with me?"

"I mean if you don't want to obviously we don't have to. It's not a big deal if we just forget about..."

"Keith stop talking," Lance cut him off. "Are you free this weekend?"

Keith let out a breath and relaxed a fraction. "Yes, yes I am."

"How about Saturday night? I can pick you up at 6?"

"Sounds good." 

"So do you want any tea or..."

"I uh...I'm good."


	2. and Feelings

"Shiro you're not taking this seriously," Keith said with venom. 

He held up two different shirts for Shiro to look at through the screen. He and Matt were in a tent on a mountain somewhere but Keith didn't have any other friends to consult. 

"Keith, they both look good. It's going to be fine no matter what you wear."

Matt poked his head in the tent. "Is this the date with Lance? Holy shit I didn't believe it when Pidge told me this is too good."

Shiro shushed him and Keith buried his head in his hands.  "Ignore him. Lance is a good guy. You're going to be fine."

"Shiro when was the last time I went on a date?"

"Um...not since high school right?"

He winced. "Yeah, not since sophomore year." He'd been too busy studying his ass off every minute since. 

"Keith, relax. He likes you," Matt said from off screen.

"He what? Has he talked about me?" Keith felt his face go red. Shiro grinned at him before pulling his boyfriend into the frame. 

Matt cackled. "Pidge is an excellent informant. It's going to be fine Keith. And wear the shirt on the right."

Shiro was like a brother to him. He was the first person he trusted. Shiro taught him that he didn't have to be alone. 

"I'm being dumb right?" He asked in a small voice. 

Shiro's gaze softened. "You're not being dumb. It's okay to be nervous about it. I was scared out of my mind when Matt asked me out the first time."

"You were?" Matt Holt's mess of hair tilted back into view. 

"Are you kidding? Of course I was. You didn't notice how sweaty my hands were the whole time?"

"You think I noticed how sweaty your hands were when my hands were actually liquid?"

"Oh c'mon, it's not like I noticed that."

"Babe, you're actually changing the way I tell my 'how I met the love of my life' story."

"I'm the love of your life?" Shiro was blushing on the screen. 

"Alright, so I've had enough of your romantic nonsense for tonight. Thanks."

Shiro smiled at him. He really missed him. "It'll be okay Keith. Trust me."

***

Pidge was on their break when Lance got the call. It was a slow morning. Lance had spent the majority of it staring out the window and thinking up endless ways this date could go wrong. The sharp ring of the phone didn't do much for his nerves. 

"Hello, you've reached Holt Teahouse. This is Lance speaking."

"Oh, hello. I'm looking for Pidge Holt?" The voice was accented and hesitant. 

"They aren't here right now sorry. I can take a message? Or you could call back in like 20 minutes. They'll be back from their break then."

"Thank you...um did you say this number is for a teahouse? I'm just a tad confused. I'm Pidge's advisor at the Garrison next year. They haven't been responding to my emails so I looked up the phone number on file and..."

"You're from the Garrison? Oh no it's all good. Pidge's family owns the tea house and they don't have a home phone so Pidge probably put this number figuring someone in their family would always be here." He laughed. It was a very Pidge thing to do.

"I see, so you know Pidge? I'm Allura. I graduated from the Garrison three years ago and now I work as an academic adviser. I hoped I'd get a chance to talk with them about their schedule and future academic goals before they arrived on campus."

"I'm sure they'd be happy to do that. Between you and me..." Lance lowered his voice in case Pidge happened to come back early. "I think Pidge is a little nervous about coming to the Garrison. They got picked on in middle school and their whole family has a history at the Garrison: Pidge's parents, their brother Matt, Shiro..."

"Pidge is related to Takashi Shirogone?" Allura actually squeaked. "He's quite honestly a legend."

Lance smirked. He knew Shiro was popular in high school...I mean, about as popular as a giant nerd could be. He was the captain of Science Olympiad and Matt's right hand at the helm of the national championship finalist Robotics team. He also played lacrosse and ran track and managed to take an actual record number of AP tests (scoring almost entirely 5s of course). Apparently his shadow still loomed. 

"Well they aren't related by blood but Shiro's basically family. And I mean...if he marries Matt he actually will be family."

"You have a treasure trove of interesting information Lance," Allura said, sounding positively stunned. Lance thought maybe he'd said too much. He'd deny it if prompted but he loved bragging about his friends, even when it bordered on gossip. 

The back door creaked open and Pidge came in, holding a container of French fries and looking a little pissed off. "Apparently I no longer look young enough to buy Happy Meals without being judged and questioned," they began before Lance interrupted. 

"Hey gremlin, you've got a phone call. It's your Garrison adviser. Here they are Allura." Pidge instantly paled and reluctantly traded Lance for the phone. They took it into the bathroom and shut the door. 

Lance was back to daydreaming by the time Pidge reappeared. They clicked the phone back into its dock with irritation and hopped up onto their usual stool. 

"What was that all about?" Lance asked cautiously. 

Pidge shook their head. "It's nothing she just wanted to talk about the Garrison. Move in day and what to expect and all that."

"Okay that sounds good. Why do you seem so angry?"

Pidge whipped their head up and glared. "I'm not perfect like Matt or Shiro. You know that right?"

"Pidge..."

They shook their head aggressively, arms crossed tightly over their chest and eyes lowered. Lance remembered seeing them with a similar expression the day of their middle school graduation. Lance had knocked on their bedroom door and fiddled when his tie. 

"You okay?" He remembered saying. "Your dad wants us to go soon."

Pidge straightened the collar of their button down and gritted their teeth. "Let's just get this over with," they had said. 

"What are you talking about?" Lance had replied. "It's gonna be great. You're going to high school. High school's like...way better than middle school. And like," he had stopped, feeling kind of dorky. "It's kind of rewarding walking across that stage. Even if it's not a real diploma."

Pidge's expression had lightened. "Alright. I trust you Lance. It you say it's going to be great then I guess it's going to be great," they smiled. Lance wished he could make Pidge smile like that again. 

"No you don't get it," Pidge said, picking at the last of their fries and refusing to meet his eyes. "I'm not good enough. I'm just going to be made fun of and compared and probably misgendered too but that's a whole different can of worms."

"Slow down..."

"How am I supposed to be excited like everyone wants me to be when all I can think about is how I'm going to let everyone down and..."

"Pidge, stop."

Pidge blinked back their tears and Lance bridged the gap between them to give them a tight hug. 

"You're not going to let anyone down. You're so much just by being yourself."

"You don't have to say that just because I'm crying."

"I'm not. You know I'm not."

"Well anyway. We should get back to work." They wiped their face with a napkin self-consciously. "I'm sorry I had a meltdown."

"It's only natural to be worried Pidge. That doesn't mean it's not all going to be okay."

"Thanks Lance."

"Any time Pidge."

He thought then that he should tell Pidge that they were his best friend. It wasn't something he'd said aloud. He didn't want to put too much pressure on them, especially since they were leaving for school soon. No matter what people told him Lance always felt like he was kind of a nuisance. 

"Hey don't you have that date tonight?"

"And don't you have a phone call with Five or whatever his fictional name is?"

"His name is Seven and you should address him as Hacker God. Honestly though Lance please download Mystic Messenger. I need someone to scream about it with and Matt won't do it."

"Oh so I'm not even your first choice huh?"

***

Keith paced anxiously in his living room and shoved his hands in his pockets as if the answers were in there somewhere. They weren't. Lance would arrive any minute.

He ran through the same imaginary conversations he'd been having in his head since this morning. Imaginary conversations were enough to make his palms sweat tonight. Somehow he always ended up sounding stupid. 

There was a knock on the door.

"Hey," Lance smiled an easy smile that made Keith fractionally less nervous. "You look nice."

"Thanks...I um, you look nicer." It was odd seeing him outside of the apron, in a shirt with a collar even. The sleeves of his blue button up were rolled to his elbows and his jeans were worn thin at the knees and cuffed in a way that highlighted his converse. He was just the right amount of dressed up and down that put Keith at ease. 

"I thought maybe we could grab some pizza? My friend is the chef at this place near by that's really good. I mean I don't know if you're in the mood for pizza. Or if you like pizza. I guess there are people who don't like pizza right? Or they can't eat it for some reason..."

"I'm good with pizza."

The restaurant was warmly lit and smelled like fresh garlic and tomatoes when they got near the kitchen. The hostess recognized Lance and eagerly led the two of them to a booth. 

"I'll tell him you're here," she said. 

"Thanks Shay. I appreciate it."

Lance looked at home in the plush booth. He leaned his elbows on the table and slid a menu in Keith's direction.

"Your pick. Unless you want a salad or something. Or you're heathen who likes pineapple on their pizza."

Keith could feel his face heating up so he looked down. 

"Oh shit, you are aren't you? I didn't mean it man." He looked nervously wide eyed for a second before Keith laughed. 

"My go to is pineapple, yes. I already knew I was a heathen though." Lance grinned at him and Keith felt warm again. "I'm not picky. I'm fine with anything," he amended. 

"I'd say. You've ordered just about everything on the Holt Teahouse menu."

“Yeah, well whose fault is that?”

Lance leaned forward on the table, elbows encroaching on Keith’s space and Keith nearly jumped out of his skin. “I’m still finding it hard to believe that you bought all that boba just so you could see me. No one really...I mean I guess I’m usually the one who makes the move.” He was looking him straight in the eye, honest, as the last traces of his teasing tone dissipated. Keith could see the freckles on his nose. They were probably from the sun. Lance looked like he belonged in the sun.

Keith hadn’t been on a date in years for several reasons: 1) There wasn’t really the time. He never went out because he needed all the studying time he could get. Even when he didn’t need to be studying he invented something to study for to dodge Shiro’s invitations. Studying easily became a cover for the fact that he didn’t want to embarrass himself. Shiro said he didn’t have a good  _ work and free time balance _ . 2) He was bad at reading people. As Lance leaned forward he tried to deconstruct everything that had happened in the 20 minutes they’d been out and figure out whether or not he was making a complete fool of himself yet. And 3) Keith wasn’t sure he was a person worth dating.

So it was odd to be faced with the same brand of nervous insecurity that he felt 95% of the time. Especially when it came from someone who seemed a lot more in control than he was. 

“Lance, I…”

“Hey Lance, how’s the teahouse?” They were interrupted by a man with an apron who looked like he was made of sunshine and Keith quietly shrunk.

“It’s great Hunk, you should stop by sometime. I can get you a discount.” Lance winked exaggeratedly.

Hunk laughed. “I might take you up on that. I’m sorry for intruding though.”

“Oh, right, Hunk this is Keith. Keith this is my friend Hunk.”

They exchanged pleasantries and Hunk took their order while he was there, promising that the food would be out quickly.

“Your friends seem really nice,” Keith said, once he’d gone. Pidge too, had seemed like someone worth getting to know.

“My friends are awesome,” Lance said with a grin. “The best part of spending the summers here is that I get to see everyone. It’s funny, because when I get back to campus all I can draw is the teahouse and Pidge and Hunk and Matt. All my inspiration is here.” He leaned in again. “But don’t tell them I said that. It’ll go to their heads.”

The pizza came and Keith convinced Lance to try a piece with pineapple, which he begrudgingly admitted wasn’t the worst thing in the world. Lance showed him some of the art he had pictures of on his phone and Keith laughed at the absurd joy in the eyes of the Holt siblings who he’d drawn pouring intensely over a game of Yahtzee. The pieces in color were vibrant and larger than life: the sunset bleeding into the forms of his friends along the horizon, a cup of bubble tea with miniature mermaids in teals and purples swimming among the boba that looked more like pearls, a lion done entirely in blues yawning lazily like a house cat. Keith groped for the words to compliment him, but he was never very artistically minded and everything he said didn’t feel quite right. Lance’s work was beautiful but it was more than that.  _ He _ , was more than that.

“Do you want to get ice cream or something?” Lance asked carefully after they’d paid. “If you’re too tired I totally understand I’m just having a nice time so…”

“I’m having a nice time too. Ice cream would be great.”

It was only a couple blocks to the nearest ice cream place. They walked slowly, and when Keith got too nervous to look at Lance he looked up at the stars instead. And it was nice. It was nice and easier than he thought it’d be.

“Shiro’s kind of right about me being a hermit,” he muttered after they’d ordered (cookies and cream for Keith, peanut butter chocolate for Lance.) “It’s my fault I didn’t meet Matt or Pidge or you sooner. I kind of...close myself off sometimes.”

“Well you’re studying right? No one can blame you for having a lot of work to do. That’s why you’re here,” Lance said gently. His ice cream was melting off the cone and he turned his head to the side to chase the mess of chocolate before it got to his hand.

“Yeah, you’re right I just...nevermind, this is probably too much to get into when we hardly know each other.”

“Dude, you can’t just say that and not finish your thought. Also, we’ve known each other all summer technically.”

Keith laughed and stole a glance at him. His eyebrows were furrowed as if in preparation to think very hard about whatever Keith was going to say next. Keith looked back up at the deep blue of the sky.

“I think I use school as an excuse a lot of the time. I think it’s just easier to make myself too busy for other people so I don’t have to worry about letting them in and letting them hurt me.”

“You think people are going to hurt you?”

“Not right away maybe but…”

“Eventually? Do you think I’m going to hurt you eventually?” He stopped. “Assuming there’s an eventually I guess.”

Keith shook his head aggressively. “No, maybe. It’s just scary to risk it. It’s easy to be alone.”

Lance considered this for a moment. The silence hung while Keith questioned every stupid, overly personal thing he’d just revealed about himself in the past 30 seconds.

“I think it’s worth it though,” he said at last. “To let people in. I think that even if you get hurt you get happiness and love and people to talk to, you know?”

“I’m trying...I’m trying to know.” Keith laughed. “That sounds so stupid but it’s all I’ve got.”

“It’s not stupid.”

“Thanks, but you don’t have to say that.”

“No, I mean it. It’s not stupid.”

“Thanks.”

“Hey,” Lance hesitated. “Could I maybe draw you really quickly?” He reached into his back pocket and pulled out a tiny notebook and stub of a pencil. 

“Me?” Keith felt his face go red. “Right now?”

“Yeah, I want to remember this conversation.”

“Okay.” He looked over at him and saw that his hands were already moving, face scrunched up in concentration as he drew. 

Keith listened to cars go by and bugs making noises and the faint echo of the radio from inside the ice cream shop and then Lance started talking, eyes still focused on his drawing. “I think I have the opposite problem. I get so attached to people that I start to worry.”

“About what?”

He stopped and looked up at him for a second. “I don’t think people like me as much as I like them. Sometimes I feel kind of useless.”

Keith couldn’t imagine why someone like Lance would feel useless.

"From what I've seen it seems like there isn't anyone who doesn't think you're great." He tripped over the double negative but recovered. "Everyone likes you...myself included."

Lance smiled and it wasn’t the unrestrained grin from earlier. It was small and hopeful and a little insecure. 

“Thanks Keith.”

***

“If I commission you will you draw me Seven?” Pidge was balancing on the stool by the outlet again, scrolling through something on their phone.

“Seven what?” Lance asked distractedly, he was focusing on not spilling tea everywhere. 

“Seven the character from Mystic Messenger,” Pidge said exasperatedly. “I know you don’t care now that you have a boyfriend and all but this is important so…”

“Keith’s not my boyfriend. We went on one date.”

“Yeah whatever. You’re gonna get a boyfriend and stop hanging out with me and I’ll have to be fine with it because I can’t get mad at some guy who gets you excited enough to call me at 1 a.m.”

Lance swatted them with his free hand. He had called Pidge at one last night to recount all the details of the date. He’d intended to wait until morning but he couldn’t sleep. And thanks to that stupid game they’d been up anyway.

“I’m not even. I wouldn’t just stop hanging out with my best friend.”

Pidge tilted on the stool and set their phone down. “I’m really your best friend?”

Lance frowned. “Yeah, of course you are.” It was something he should've said a long time ago, but apparently this was the summer of laying feelings directly on the table. Their age difference had always made their friendship a little odd. Pidge would complain about middle school while he tried to assure them that high school was better and when they ran into Lance’s or Pidge’s other friends at the movie theater they often thought it was a babysitting situation. But it never mattered to Lance. 

“You’re my best friend too,” they said, adjusting their glasses. 

He set down the pitcher of tea. “Look, I know you’re worried about high school and fitting in and Matt being the golden child and all that but I think you’re forgetting that you’re the most badass person I know.”

Pidge scoffed.

“No seriously, you’re just unapologetically yourself and that’s so brave and so rare. You’re ahead of the curve. Everyone else will catch on eventually.”

“And then I can be their god?” Pidge laughed sardonically.

“Sure, you can be their god you weirdo.”

They hugged their knees to their chest atop the stool. “You really think it’ll be alright? Allura was nice and all but every time she calls about advising stuff I just freak out.”

“It’ll be alright. I promise. And I’m just a phone call away.”

As if on cue the teahouse phone rang. Lance glanced at it knowingly and Pidge answered it. “Holt Teahouse this is Pidge. Oh hi Allura. Yeah, I have a minute.” They made their way to the bathroom, giving Lance a small salute. 

Three hours later, after a slow day of limited sales, Lance was nearly dozing off at the ordering window. Pidge was looking through the high school course catalog with more interest than before. He jumped when he heard him. 

“Hey Lance.” Keith was right in front of him, leaning his elbows on the counter. He had a huge smile plastered on his face and he wasn’t alone.

“Jesus Christ asshole when did you get back?” Pidge burst forth, jumping out of their seat and leaning through the open window to hug their brother. 

“Whoa, language,” he laughed. “We just got back an hour ago. It was a nonstop flight.”

“Surprise,” Shiro said, slinging an arm over Keith’s shoulder. “I hear you two have met?” He said, gesturing between Keith and Lance. 

“Yeah,” Keith said quietly. “I think we’re going to get to know each other a lot better too.”

Lance felt dizzy with happiness even when Pidge started teasing him and Shiro tousled Keith’s hair and the five of them ended up in a smooshed group hug that ended quickly but felt like it lasted all the way through Shiro’s recounting of their trip (punctuated by Matt reenacting the most dramatic moments) and Pidge explaining the entire plot of Mystic Messenger to Keith who listened patiently and interjected with questions of his own and it didn’t leave until he was in bed that night, staring up at his ceiling and listening to his own heartbeat. His phone pinged and he stared at the glow of the message in the dark.

Keith: See you tomorrow. :)

There was still plenty of summer left. Even when it was over they’d be okay. It would all be okay.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading pals. This is day two of my fic-vember challenge. Check me out on tumblr @all-we-see-is-bi if you want to learn more about that. Have a great day/night!


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